


thou shalt make them die in their palaces

by amazingspaceship



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26012524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingspaceship/pseuds/amazingspaceship
Summary: With a flick of her wand, she does what she should’ve done all those sweeps ago.The Handmaid tenders her resignation.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	thou shalt make them die in their palaces

Crowbar lets her in.

The Doctor is pretending to read the newspaper in his office, and Damara doesn’t bother to knock. She has the Condesce’s head in her hands; she tosses it on the rug, smiling in satisfaction when his head snaps up at the _thump_.

He manages to convey a raised eyebrow despite having a perfectly smooth cueball for a head. “I believe you’re in the wrong place, my dear.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“You are—” he pretends to check a watch, “—three hours too early. Your master won’t arrive until later this evening. Furthermore...” He glances at the severed head as if noticing it for the first time. “...That shouldn’t be right.”

She still doesn’t say anything.

“I believe your orders were quite clear.” He stands as if to loom, but she has grown in the centuries since her wigglerhood. Now, he only comes up to her shoulder. “You are meant to allow the Empress to kill you, thereby transmitting your service to her. You have obviously created a doomed timeline. If you return to your proper place at once, I believe we can overlook this transgression.”

“No.”

The Doctor, to his credit, does not show surprise. “No?”

“No.” She steps forward; her wands snap, unbidden, to her hands. “I will not go back, and this _isn’t_ a doomed timeline.” She can feel it, singing out to her, a thin line of fiery light stretching outward towards infinity. She feels it sing in her bones. Causality is unraveling, and things shift in its wake. Something has changed. The alpha timeline is but one branch of many, and she knows with certainty that she now walks it.

“That’s not how this works.” She is familiar with the voice Scratch is using; it is the one that used to precede punishment. “Your master is already here: the loop dictates that you complete your mission. To err is to unwrite yourself from the narrative. You _know_ this to be true.”

“I thought I did.” She steps closer. He doesn’t step back, but she can tell that he wants to. His mask is slipping. How was she ever afraid of him? “You really had me fooled. I believed everything you ever said, every lesson you ever taught me, and even though I hated every second of it I damn well took it to heart.” She steps forward again, absentmindedly kicking the Empress’ head aside as she advances. “But that’s not how Paradox Space works, is it? It doesn’t do straight lines. It doesn’t do logical. It is a cosmic fucking joke that rarely makes any sense, especially not to its pawns.” She steps forward one last time and _he steps back_.

For a moment, she is as surprised as him. And then her face breaks out into a wide grin, perhaps her third joyful expression ever. It is a feeling she could get used to.

Scratch begins to bluster, something about duty and fate, but she ignores him. She has plenty of practice ignoring his droning and idly fantasizing about ripping out his stuffing and flaying the plush skin from his body. It’s an old habit. She notes absently that some members of the Felt are peeking curiously into the office. She ignores them too; she’ll deal with them later. In all likelihood, she’ll have to deal with her younger self as well, although she’ll spare herself the same fate as the rest of them.

Scratch is still talking. “I’m leaving,” she says, cutting off his rant. “You and your master are done ordering me around. I will go where I like and burn what I please and you will never, _ever_ , control me again.”

“You know as well as I do, Damara, that this session needs a villain. Someone to pluck the strings.”

“Well,” she says, smiling sweetly, spreading her arms out wide. “Consider this my formal application.” And now she can tell that he knows she is serious, because his posture becomes rigid and straight rather than loose and relaxed. On a whim, she punctuates her statement with a burst of psionics and revels in his almost imperceptible flinch.

The Doctor is as unreadable as ever, but she _knows_ there is a hint of nervousness in his voice when he finally speaks again. “You are the Handmaid—“

Her patience runs out. “I am the _Demoness_ ,” she snarls, and suddenly she is furious. She bares her teeth and tosses her horns and he actually _recoils_ at that, well and truly cowering, like the wigglers she used to cull for fun. “The claw in the dark, the inevitable end, the black witch of death.” She barely has to raise her arm; her magic sends him flying across the room, as limp as a china doll. “I killed the Condense. I tore out her heart and pulped her bones. I am the most powerful thing on this miserable fucking moon and I am _done_ bowing to you!” And with a flick of her wand, she does what she should’ve done all those sweeps ago.

He doesn’t have the courtesy to bleed. His head hits the ground with a dull thud; a moment later, so does his body.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter @amzngspcshp if you want to say hi!


End file.
